"Director Edward."
Edward had just returned to his own company when, right at the entrance, he spotted a man waiting for him. The man wore a hat and dark sunglasses, giving off a slightly weary and even decadent aura.
For a moment, Edward froze. If not for the fact that the man's demeanor seemed otherwise normal, Edward might have suspected that this was a crazed fan who couldn't hold it in anymore and had come personally to deliver him a knife in protest.
After all, ever since The Grudge was released, Ghost Films had been receiving no small number of "knives" in the mail—literal razor blades sent in by fans. These were the gifts of people who, after watching The Grudge, were moved to tears and wanted to express just how "cut to the bone" their fear and emotions had been. Edward could only be touched, endlessly thanking the fans for their passion and promising that in the future he would make even scarier horror films to properly repay such devotion.
But now, looking at this stranger before him, Edward suddenly felt that the voice coming from behind those sunglasses sounded oddly familiar. And when the man finally took them off, Edward instantly recognized who it was.
After all, they had even worked together before. What surprised Edward was not his identity, but the fact that the man would show up here on his own initiative. Edward had originally been planning to contact him later, once preparations for his next film were further along.
"Mr. Carrey? Please, come in quickly." Edward hurriedly led Jim into the company building, calling to Zoroark to fetch some tea. Zoroark trotted off obediently, while Jim finally removed his disguise completely, revealing a pair of tired eyes beneath.
Edward released Q and Void from their Poké Balls. These two little companions never liked staying inside their balls for long, so Edward rarely kept them confined.
The moment Q came out, it leapt directly onto Edward's head, finding a familiar spot and curling up there as if it were a cushion. It even yawned loudly before settling into sleep, leaving Edward half exasperated and half amused. Void, on the other hand, was the same as always, floating silently by the windowpane, gazing out at the scenery outside with a blank, dreamy expression.
Jim didn't seem to mind. He simply watched Edward arranging his Pokémon, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"My apologies, Mr. Carrey. I just came back from attending the film festival. What brings you here?" Edward finally sat down, addressing his guest politely. He was genuinely curious.
Although they had already agreed to collaborate on The Truman Show, Edward hadn't yet started production. The Grudge was still burning hot in theaters, and beyond that, New Year's was approaching.
The New Year period was always busy for Edward. More importantly, it was one of the rare times when his family could truly reunite—him, his father, and his brother. During that season, he usually refused work altogether, preferring to savor those warm days of togetherness.
"Director Edward, I must apologize. Ever since I returned home, I've been unable to stop thinking about Truman. The role has been constantly on my mind. I actually came because I wanted to discuss some of my thoughts with you." Jim's voice trembled with excitement.
Just then, Zoroark entered, carefully placing two cups of steaming tea before them, then slipping quietly back out.
Edward was stunned. He hadn't expected Jim to be so passionately moved by a single role. This was Jim—an accomplished actor with a long and brilliant career, one who had starred in dozens of films, with at least a dozen being worldwide hits. Yet here he was, deeply absorbed by the character of Truman.
"Oh? Truly? Then please, Mr. Carrey, tell me your thoughts." Edward's own interest was piqued. He had never before encountered an actor with such intensity. Jim's skills were undeniable, and Edward was curious to see how he interpreted Truman.
Encouraged, Jim launched into his ideas, speaking animatedly. Edward listened carefully, nodding along. He had to admit— Jim's insights were sharp.
Jim's perspective on Truman was unique, his interpretation of the character's psychology surprisingly aligned with what Edward had only loosely sketched in the script. In the screenplay, Truman was defined as someone longing for freedom, someone who refused to live a life of lies. But Jim's additions fleshed him out with unexpected depth, granting the character new shades of humanity that Edward himself hadn't fully envisioned.
This intrigued Edward.
Although The Truman Show was already quite mature in concept, Jim's suggestions made it even more compelling. At one point, Jim even delivered an impromptu performance of Truman's climactic farewell line to the audience. For a split second, Edward felt transported back to his former life, sitting on his old sofa, watching the film for the first time.
It was a bittersweet feeling of nostalgia. That time in his past had been simple and happy.
"Wonderful. Mr. Carrey, inviting you was indeed the right choice." Edward applauded warmly, sincere admiration in his eyes. Jim's acting, tempered by years of experience, had only grown more profound. Edward even thought that with the right makeup, Jim could become Truman without any issue.
"Director Edward, when will we start shooting this film?" Jim asked eagerly, unable to hide his excitement.
Edward hesitated. Originally, his plan had been to wait until later. But seeing the intensity in Jim's eyes, that impatient yearning, he relented. After all, the film had to be made sooner or later, and sets needed time to be built.
In the original Truman Show, the massive artificial town where Truman lived had never been truly constructed in its entirety. Even at the peak of Hollywood's wealth, building an entire town-sized studio was impossible. Most of the sets were localized, with certain backdrops constructed out of painted boards and clever photography.
Still, Edward's imagination stirred.
"What if I actually built a small town for this?" he mused silently. The idea was wild—too extravagant, perhaps, but undeniably tempting.
"Unless… unless I use the town as a future reward for my employees? For example, outstanding staff could live there, and those who worked long enough would eventually own a house as a benefit?" Edward's thoughts spiraled. It was a tantalizing vision.
But reality soon struck. The cost of building even a handful of houses was enormous. A whole town? Astronomical. For one or two homes, he could bite the bullet and supplement with his own money. But a small town? That was beyond even his capacity.
In the end, he dismissed the idea. He would stick with a practical approach—filming in an existing seaside town and buying a single house to serve as Truman's home.
Rustboro came to mind. It had an open harbor, matching the film's setting perfectly. Moreover, it was already his home base, where his studio and resources were located. Shooting there would be convenient.
Of course, filming in a real city came with the risk of spoilers and leaks. A paparazzi photograph here, a passerby's recording there—it could hurt the film's secrecy. But that was a risk every filmmaker had to take.
"Then, Mr. Carrey, please stay in Rustboro City for a while. When filming begins, I'll notify you immediately." Edward smiled.
Jim shook his hand with both of his, his excitement plain to see, and left the building practically skipping with joy.
Watching him, Edward could only chuckle helplessly. Since the decision had been made, preparations for the movie had to begin at once.
This time, Edward even planned to cameo himself—as the director within The Truman Show, the mastermind behind the grand reality project. It would be a playful in-joke: a director filming a film about a director filming a show.
As for the rest of the cast, Edward would stick to his rule: select strong, capable actors. He had already scouted many during his previous recruitment event, but he still wanted to cast the net wider. Entertainment was harsh, and he hoped to give more dreamers a fair chance.
The film festival yesterday had been eventful. While an eccentric art film had stolen much of the spotlight, Edward had quietly taken home three awards, including Best Picture. Ironically, the award he had failed to win at the League Film Festival, he had now won here. Though the prestige was not quite the same, recognition was recognition, and Edward welcomed it gladly.
Of course, the ceremony itself had descended into chaos, with judges nearly brawling over their decisions. But because of the overshadowing art-house film, Buried's award barely stirred public discussion—something Edward didn't mind in the slightest.
"Boss, didn't you say you weren't planning to start filming right away?" Zoroark asked curiously, arms full of papers Edward had handed her for pre-production work.
"I wasn't. But after looking into Jim's eyes… I don't think he can wait any longer." Edward rubbed his temples.
That eager, desperate look had been impossible to turn down. And it wasn't as though filming now would ruin his plans—he could always pause for New Year's.
"Eh? Actors who can't wait to shoot a movie? That's a first." Zoroark blinked, astonished.
Edward only shrugged, sending her off to continue preparations. Alone in his office, Edward pondered whether to make a few adjustments to The Truman Show's script.
The original story was already powerful. Yet after seeing Jim's passion, a bold new idea formed in Edward's mind.
What if Truman's Pokémon were also part of the fabricated world? A creature chosen by the producers to act as his companion, yet, over time, it genuinely came to love him as its real Trainer?
For audiences in the Pokémon world, that would hit hard. Here, Pokémon weren't just partners—they were family. Many Trainers already considered their Pokémon lifelong companions, beings they could grow old with.
So, imagine Truman realizing that everything was fake: his wife, his friends, even his father. His first love was the only real thing, and she was taken away. To then suspect that even his Pokémon was part of the lie… only to discover that his partner had truly bonded with him, choosing to follow him beyond the walls of his false life—yes, that would resonate deeply.
It would add new layers of emotion, pushing viewers to tears.
"If I weren't focusing on horror, I'd almost want to remake Hachiko just to milk the tears," Edward muttered half-jokingly.
He remembered being tricked in his past life by a movie advertised as a lighthearted comedy about cats and dogs. Midway through, the tone shifted, and by the end, it was a tragedy. It had left him devastated—but unforgettable.
Laughter was fleeting. Tragedy lingered. That was why so many so-called "healing" films and anime leaned on bittersweet sorrow.
With that in mind, Edward quickly revised his script, weaving in the new subplot. It didn't disrupt the story's flow; instead, it highlighted Truman's despair more vividly. His Pokémon's final loyalty would give him the courage to step out of the false world.
Now, all that remained was choosing the Pokémon itself.
"Since the producers made him fear the sea, it would make sense to give him a Ground-type or a Fire-type—something that Water naturally countered," Edward mused, a smile tugging at his lips.
Yes, that would be perfect.
(End of Chapter)